Lefties Make Better Lovers
by subway20
Summary: What do you do when the girl of your dreams appears right before your eyes?... Paily one-shot.


_**A/N: I wrote this one-shot from a great prompt from siophiefandom - amazing Paily writer, and best betareader ever (thank you, once again!)**_

 _ **Hope you Paily fans will have as much fun reading this as I had writing it. As always, feedback is much appreciated!**_

* * *

"Emi-lyyyy!" Hanna whined, "you're not listening to my story at all!"

"What?" a distracted Emily asked. "Oh yes, Hanna, I'm all ears."

Hanna narrowed her big, baby-blue eyes. "So, what was I telling you just now?"

"Um... you were talking about Caleb," Emily said tentatively.

Hanna shook her head in indignation. "Not at all! I was complaining about my boss, and about how that crazy bitch is making my life hell," she said with a pout.

Emily turned her eyes from the tennis court and looked at her best friend sympathetically. "Sorry, Han," she said. "I was just a little... enthralled by the game."

Hanna snorted. "The game? Oh yeah, sure. You seem to be more... enthralled by one of the players. That one, in particular," she said, pointing her finger in the direction of the tall, auburn girl on the court.

Emily felt her cheeks redden. "It's not what you think," she protested. "I was looking at her technique. It's... weird. Especially her serve. It's too bad, because this girl is very fast, and... fit."

Hanna smiled like the Cheshire cat. "Fit, huh? You mean hot?"

"I mean athletic," Emily corrected, rolling her eyes. "I wasn't checking her out, Hanna."

"Yeah, yeah. If you say so, Em. Why is she playing against a guy, anyway?"

"It's a practice match," Emily explained. "Gals often train against guys, because it's a good way to improve their strength and speed."

"Oh, okay," Hanna said, clearly unimpressed. "Anyway, your crush is looking at you right now."

"Hanna!" Emily gasped. "She's not my crush, and she's probably staring at _us_ because _you_ talk way too loud," she whispered.

She shot a sheepish smile at the auburn girl, who seemed more amused than upset. The girl winked at Emily and turned her attention back to her opponent on the other side of the net. The short-haired, slender but brawny man delivered a strong serve that the girl managed to touch, but her return landed in the net.

"Okay, Travis, I'm done," she yelled, raising her racket in surrender. "You were right. Happy?"

The man trotted to the net and extended his hand to the girl, a big smile on his face.

"Yes, I'm happy I proved you wrong. Seriously Paige, you really thought you could beat me like that?"

"Well, it was worth a bet," the girl grinned, shaking Travis' hand. "It was fun, though."

"I had fun too," the young man affirmed. "So, you wanna grab a drink now?"

Paige shook her head. "No, I'm gonna stay on the court a bit. I really need to work on that serve... for next time. I made way too many double faults today."

"I noticed," the man said with a wry smile. "Don't overwork yourself, though, McCullers. You've got a match to play - a real one, this time - on Sunday."

"I know," Paige assured him. "But I really need to improve that serve. I promise you, next time we play against each other, it'll be a different story."

She quickly glanced at the two girls in the bleachers - especially at the gorgeous raven-haired one, who had been staring at her since the beginning of the practice.

Travis grinned knowingly. "Okay, so I'll let you impress your audience with your... serve. Don't show off too much, champion."

"I don't see what you mean," Paige retorted, blushing.

She walked back to the baseline and began to pick up the tennis balls that were scattered all around the court.

Paige heard someone clearing her throat behind her and looked back quickly, startled.

The raven-haired goddess was right in front of her, smiling nervously.

"Oh, hi," Paige said, surprised but delighted.

"Hi," the girl echoed, a tentative grin on her lips. "Sorry to... um, to interrupt you."

"You're not interrupting anything," Paige said pleasantly. "The game is over, and as you saw, I've been hammered."

"Yes, about that..." the tall, tanned girl said. "I was thinking..." she started, biting her bottom lip.

"Yes?" Paige ventured. _God, those lips. And those eyes. And... everything._

"Well, you know, I was wondering why you don't put more spin on your serve?... I mean, it's an asset that we lefties clearly have, especially on the ad side."

Paige raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really," the girl confirmed. "You should really focus on that. I use spin serves all the time, especially when I play against right-handed players - which means, most of the time, obviously, since they're the majority."

"I guess you're right," the auburn girl said with a small grin. "So, you play tennis too?"

"I do," Emily nodded. "I'm on a tennis scholarship at Stanford," she said proudly. "Junior year."

"Impressive," Paige approved. "And what are you doing in North Carolina, then, California girl?"

"Oh, just visiting my friend," Emily said, pointing a finger to Hanna who was staring at them from the stands, a big grin plastered on her face.

"She just started her first job, at this fashion company in Charlotte, and she needs some support. And since it's Spring Break anyway, I have some free time... sorry, I don't want to bore you with my story."

 _God, Emily, why are you telling her all that?..._

"Oh, but you're not boring me," Paige said eagerly. "Actually, I could use some help with that serve. Would you show me that spin effect of yours?..." she asked with her most charming McCullers smile and a twinkle of her eyes.

* * *

"...Oh my gosh, McCullers," the dark-haired boy scoffed, almost spitting out his beer in the process. "She has no idea who you are? Seriously?"

"Stop that, Lucas. I'm not that famous," Paige said in an irritated tone.

"Oh come on. You said she plays tennis. She must have at least heard about you. After all, you broke the top 200 last summer."

"That was before my knee injury," Paige said somberly. "I'm ranked 420 in the world now."

"Because you had to stop playing for six months, Paige. Now that you're back on track, I mean on court, you will be soon in..."

"That's not the point, Lucas," Paige cut him off. "I'm not seeking advice, or reassurance, about my tennis career."

"No, you're seeking advice about your love life," the young man said, wiggling his eyebrows comically. "That's what I'm here for, as always."

Paige sighed. Though she hated to admit it, Lucas was right. On the tennis court, Paige McCullers could be a real tiger, confident and determined. Off the courts, she was quite the charmer, but also a big softie, especially when it came to her romantic life.

"And it all started because of another stupid bet with Travis," Lucas went on.

Paige dipped her head. "Yes," she groaned. "And now, I don't know how to tell her."

"That's tragic, McCullers," Lucas stated, before taking another sip of his beer. "But also, it's so funny."

The tennis player smacked her childhood friend on his shoulder, making Lucas squeak in mock pain. Paige, he noticed with satisfaction, was now biting a smile.

"Okay," Paige granted. "I admit it's a bit funny. She really thinks I'm left-handed."

"So, she doesn't realize that you lost to Travis only because you were using your weak hand?" Lucas asked. "Wow, that Emily girl must be really gullible."

Paige frowned. "Not at all. She's very smart. And, it's hard to tell, because even with my left hand, I'm still skilled, you know? Travis only won because of that stupid bet, and because my guard was down."

"Yeah, sure, and also because your new crush was staring lovingly at you from the stands, distracting you," Lucas teased.

"Yes," Paige sighed dreamily. "Emily is so..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I have eyes, you know. You're sure she's gay?"

Paige glared at her friend. "Yes, I'm sure. She told me about her ex-girlfriend."

"Already?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know how you lesbians flirt, but when I'm on a first date, I don't talk about my exes."

Paige rolled her eyes. "We weren't on a _date_. We were on a tennis court, working on my spin serve."

"So, you were working on your spin serve, whatever that is, and she told you about her ex girlfriend? Like that, out of the blue?"

"I... I don't really remember, Lucas," Paige said, annoyed. "We were just chatting about things, and she mentioned Maya, that's all."

Lucas smiled knowingly. "I see."

"What do you see?"

"She was fishing for information. And she wanted to know if you, um, play for the same team."

"Well," Paige grinned, "I think that she knows that."

Lucas quirked an interested eyebrow. "You made a move on her already, Paigey?"

"No," Paige protested, a faint blush on her cheeks. "Who the hell do you think I am, Lucas Gottesman?"

"I know you're a charmer, Paige McCullers," Lucas deadpanned.

"Well, she is, too," Paige said with a dreamy sigh.

 _She kills me every time she smiles. God, those dimples. And... the way she puts her hand on my shoulder, or... on my lower back, when she wants me to correct my serve. Her hands are so soft, and so warm... God, McCullers, you've got it bad._

* * *

"Paige!" Emily exclaimed, "Look at your serve! I think you've got it all figured out now! Told you, spin is the lefties' lethal weapon."

Paige couldn't help but smile at Emily's enthusiasm. "Yeah, you were right, Emily. It wasn't easy at first, but my serve feels so natural now. You're a great coach."

Actually, Paige felt so at ease now with her left-handed spin serve that she was even considering using it in her next official match - a move that would, obviously, surprise her opponent, to say the least.

Emily blushed at Paige's compliment. "Well, you're a great student yourself. You're really a quick learner, Paige. And we lefties have to stick together, don't you think?" she winked.

Paige dipped her head. "Yeah, about that," she began in a low voice. "I wanted to tell you, Emily..." she started, before letting out a deep sigh.

"Yeah?" Emily frowned, taken aback by Paige's sudden change of mood.

But before Paige had a chance to answer, a loud crack of thunder rattled the sky above them, followed by some heavy rain drops. The two girls squealed and sprinted to the club house.

Once inside, Paige and Emily shared a hot cocoa at the bar (for once, Paige put her strict, athlete's diet aside), making small talk and smiling at each other, until Emily said:

"So, what did you want to tell me?"

"Uh?" Paige asked. She had been so hypnotized by Emily's sparkling, deep brown eyes and her stunning dimpled smile that she had forgotten her resolve to tell the other girl the truth.

"Just before, on the court. You said you had something to tell me?"

Paige fidgeted on her seat. "Oh, that," she said nervously. "I... I wanted to say... well, do you want to go on a date with me? Tonight?" she blurted out, surprising herself. _What the heck, McCullers?!_

Emily's heart skipped a beat. Truth be told, she had been waiting for the right moment to ask Paige out herself.

"I'd love that," she beamed. "So, dinner?"

"Dinner," Paige confirmed, elated at the idea of spending the evening with Emily.

 _I'll tell her tonight anyway,_ she promised herself.

* * *

"So Em," Spencer said in a pleasant tone, "Hanna told me you're going on a date tonight, with that hottie you're coaching?"

At the other end of the line, Emily rolled her eyes. _Why can't Hanna hold her tongue for once?_

"It's just dinner," Emily said, not wanting to let Spencer know how impatient and giddy she was feeling. "And how do you know she's a hottie anyway?"

"Because I Googled her," Spencer explained matter-of-factly. "Actually, I'm Googling her right now."

"You're what?" Emily exclaimed. "Spencer!"

"Oh, come on, Em. It's not as if I'm stalking her or something. I'm only doing it because I want to be sure that you'll be safe."

Emily shook her head. "Spencer. I'm a big girl now, remember? I don't need you to protect me anymore."

From the moment Emily met her, in middle school, Spencer had always acted like that - overprotective over her friends, wary around strangers until she was sure that their intentions were good. Some people -a lot of people, actually- found that insufferable. Emily found it annoying sometimes, but also really endearing. That was how Spencer was -always the loyal one, sometimes beyond reason.

"So," Emily resumed in a lighthearted tone, "do I have your blessing? For dating Paige, I mean?"

"Of course, Em. She seems to be a very nice girl, from what Hanna told me. Plus, as I said, she's really good-looking. There's just one thing..."

"What?" Emily frowned, sensing the hesitation in her friend's voice. "What, Spencer?"

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, Emily, but... how come you're coaching her?"

"What do you mean?" Emily asked, puzzled.

"Well, I know you're a very talented player, obviously. On the college level, which is great. But Paige... well, she's a tennis pro, "Spencer said cautiously.

Emily let out a loud laugh. "Spencer, what are you talking about? Paige is a very good player, but there's no way she could..."

"Emily," Spencer interrupted her. "I'm looking at her Wikipedia page right now. And unless there's more than one twenty-two-year-old Paige McCullers who lives in North Carolina and plays tennis for a living, your date is a pro. She even made the cut to play in the US Open qualifications last year."

"That's impossible," Emily stammered. She tightened her grip on the phone. "Spencer, tell me what her page says."

"Paige Alicia McCullers, born 15th, April 1993, in Raleigh, North Carolina," Spencer recited. "Height, five feet eight inches. Single-hand backhand. Right-handed player..."

"Wait," Emily blurted out. "What did you just say?"

"...Right-handed player?"

"Yeah, that. Spencer, are you sure? She's right-handed?"

Spencer didn't know why this mundane fact seemed so important to Emily, but she could tell that there was something there.

"Wait, Em," she said.

Spencer quickly scrolled through the photos on Paige's Wikipedia.

"Yes, she's definitely right-handed, Em," she confirmed.

"And you said she is ranked at a professional level?"

"Well, apparently, she reached the top 200 at her peak," Spencer read. "She's moved down the WTA ranking a bit now, because she suffered an injury recently, and..."

"Fucking liar!" Emily exclaimed, cutting Spencer off.

"What?" Spencer asked, shocked. "Emily, I swear..."

"Not you, her. Paige. She lied to me. She played me. God, I'm so stupid."

"Em, I don't understand..."

"Well, I do, now. And believe me, she's gonna hear from me," Emily snapped.

"Emily..."

"Sorry, Spence, but I have to go," Emily said, before hanging up abruptly.

* * *

Paige's happy smile died on her lips when she saw the scowl on Emily's face. She quickly got up from the bench where she had been waiting for Emily, just outside the restaurant they had chosen for their date.

"Emily," she said, concerned. "Are you okay? Did something happened?"

"You lied to me, that what's happened!" Emily yelled angrily. "You didn't tell me you were a tennis pro, and you pretended to be left-handed. Why, Paige?"

"Emily," Paige said. Her face turned as pale as a ghost. "Emily, I swear, it's not what you think..."

"Shut up, Paige!" Emily snapped. "You made a fool of me. What was it exactly, a prank? You wanted to make fun of the college girl?"

"No, Emily, not at all. Listen, I can explain..." Paige begged.

"God, I must have looked so stupid..." Emily said bitterly, shaking her head.

"No, Emily, no! Of course not! Please, let me explain..."

Emily raised her hand to stop her. "No. I don't want to hear a single word from you anymore. I'm done with you, Paige McCullers."

Paige dipped her head sadly. "I understand. And I'm sorry, Emily."

Emily huffed. "Well, it's too late for that."

She turned on her heels and made her way down the street, through the evening crowd. Paige stared at her, shame-filled and heartbroken. _Fuck, McCullers. You're so stupid. Fix that!_

Emily heard some rushed footsteps behind her, but didn't slow her pace. She was crying now, big, warm tears that came from a place of anger - but also of hurt.

"Emily! Wait!" she heard, but she didn't bother to turn around.

But when strong, steady arms grabbed her by the shoulder and the hip, she had no choice but turn to face her opponent. She clenched her fists and her jaw, ready to fight back, to snap back.

What she saw made her resolve falter, though.

Paige's face was a mix of guilt and sorrow. And she was crying, too.

 _Either she's sincere, or she's a very good actress, Emily thought._

"Emily, I'm so sorry I lied," Paige said in a shaky voice. "I swear, it wasn't to make fun of you. Of course not."

Emily snorted. "Really? So, what was the point, then?"

"I wanted to impress you," Paige confessed bashfully. "I know it sounds stupid, but that's the truth, Emily."

"You... you, a tennis pro, you wanted to impress me?"

"Yeah. But not... not only with my tennis, you know? In fact, the... tennis thing was just a pretext. I wanted to spend some time with you, but I didn't know how to ask you, and then you proposed to help me with my serve..."

"Because I thought you were a college player too, and left-handed, like me," Emily said.

"Yeah," Paige said sheepishly. "I know, it's so stupid. And after that, I was like, caught up in my own lie, and I didn't know how to tell you..."

She closed her eyes briefly and sighed. "Anyway, I screwed it up big time. I'm so sorry, Emily. I didn't want to hurt you, or to make fun of you, I swear. In fact, it's the opposite."

"...Why?" Emily asked after a brief silence. Her voice wasn't angry anymore. More curious.

Paige stared at Emily, puzzled.

"Why what?"

"Why did you want to spend time with me?" Emily asked in a softer tone.

Paige let out a sound between a laugh and a sob. "Isn't it obvious? Because I like you, a lot."

A small, but hopeful smile appeared on Emily's lips. "You... like me? But... you don't really know me."

"Really? I don't think that's true, Emily," Paige said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

"I know we only met very recently, but from all the time we spent on the court this week, I can already tell you're kind, and patient, and very dedicated. And funny. And smart. And talented. And... very beautiful, too. And I mean it," she said, her voice firmer. "You're amazing, Emily."

"You really think that?" Emily asked. "All that you said?"

"Of course. I've never met someone like you," Paige said with disarming honesty.

But when Emily didn't respond or react to her words, Paige dipped her head.

"I totally understand if you don't believe me, or if it's too much for you," she concluded sadly.

Emily stepped forward and reached for Paige's hand.

"Thanks for what you said, Paige. And you know," she said, stroking Paige's palm softly with her thumb, "Tennis is not my only talent."

"Oh yeah?" Paige said. She raised her eyes to meet Emily's. What she saw there made her heart swell. Emily was no longer sad or mad at her. Not at all. Her deep, dark brown eyes had the most tender and warm expression Paige had ever seen.

"...Well, you know what they say," Emily said with a lopsided smile. "Lefties are not only gifted on tennis courts. They also make better lovers."

Paige let out a relieved, happy laugh.

"Oh, really? I can't wait to see that," she beamed, before leaning in to initiate their first, but certainly not their last, kiss.

 **\- THE END -**

* * *

 **A/N: ...Well, it seems that a lot of my fics end with a Paily kiss. What can I say, I can't help it! ;)**

 **Oh, and in case you're wondering, I'm a (rather bad) tennis player myself, and I'm right-handed. Damn it!...**


End file.
